


we will always end up here

by MusicLover500



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Supernatural
Genre: Choking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, I'm Going to Hell, Implied/Referenced Torture, Just to be safe, M/M, Manipulation, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Lucifer (Supernatural), Sam Winchester Has Panic Attacks, Unhealthy Relationships, added to as a go, because my mind is all about exploring the fucked up dynamic between these two, hell all versions of lucifer except from the lucifer tv show are their own warning, idk if I'll include smut but just the sheer concept of samifer is worth a tag warning, it's minor but still there or at least i tried to portray it, let me know if i need to ever tag anything, tags and warnings will probably change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27751024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicLover500/pseuds/MusicLover500
Summary: "No matter what you do, no matter what details you alter, we will always end up... here."-Series of oneshots involving Sam/Lucifer, including crossovers with other versions of Lucifer (namely, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina and Lucifer (TV)). Will probably put it has complete after I get a few more finished and just update when I get around to it. Hoping this will help me get back into writing.
Relationships: Lucifer/Sam Winchester, The Dark Lord | Satan (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Sam Winchester, The Dark Lord | Satan/Sam Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 21





	1. Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Satan | The Dark Lord)

**Author's Note:**

> Was going to add more to this but I can't write endings to save my life and plus it gives me a chance to pick this up in a future oneshot if anyone cares enough. Hopefully will get more tags up once I know exactly how comfortable I am writing explicitly dark things - I might just allude to it but will still tag. Because literally any version of Samifer is it's own warning. Except maybe Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)/Sam Winchester. He's the only one I'd let within fifty feet of Sam.
> 
> In terms of timeline, this piece takes place sometime in S15 of SPN after Jack has come back and at the end of season 2 of CAOS.
> 
> Also sorry in advance but I'm in love with the idea of there being some sort of bond between angels/archangels and their vessels, especially True Vessels. Mostly because of how far down the fucked up Samifer rabbit hole one can go with that idea.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: mild panic attack referenced/occurs in the beginning

Following a bunch of odd, witchy coincidences to the small town of Greendale was supposed to be a simple, easy job. In and out. A normal break from anything Chuck related.

Naturally, that wasn't how things went. No, it went far worse than anyone could have imagined.

Icy fear (or was it just his aura, his grace? Sam couldn't tell anymore; hadn't been able to for a long time) slithered down his spine as he gazed at the figure before him with mounting horror.

"No, no no. This, this isn’t possible. We killed you. You, you’re in the Empty.”

As the words rushed out, Sam suddenly found it harder to draw air in, his mind suddenly spinning a thousand different directions.  _ He was right, I never got out, oh fuck, I can’t do this, not again, please no  _ **_no_ ** . Dimly, he was aware of a pair of arms suddenly holding him up - when had he begun to fall? - and he almost lashed out, but the impossible figure before him was content to just sit there, all too familiar smirk in place (no matter the body, he would always recognize that smirk).

Besides, the arms were as familiar as his own, and sure enough Dean was pulling him back, angling his own body so it was partly shielding Sam from one of his worst nightmares come to life.

The plan had been relatively simple: Sabrina, the teenage witch some demon trying to be Lucifer was obsessed with, was going to meet with him, seemingly alone. While she distracted him, Sam and Dean would take the demon by surprise and kill them. Except it wasn’t some random demon playing at being Lucifer himself. 

Sam could literally kick himself. He should have known better, but denial was a powerful force. After all, no one was supposed to come back from the Empty, even if they were awake. The only reason Cas and Jack had come back was because the Empty had let them. He should have just listened to his gut, to the familiar link between him and the Devil that twinged the closer the two hunters got to the warlock bar. Instead he let Dean convince him it was nothing to truly worry about; just after effects of everything Lucifer had put Sam through. 

Sabrina was looking very confused, her eyes jumping between the three men rapidly, and Sam remembered she didn’t have her powers at the moment, which meant there was no help coming from there. And there was no way Sam was going to risk Cas and Jack.

“Staying dead isn’t just a Winchester special anymore, apparently,” Lucifer said, a nonchalant expression on his face. But Sam could see underneath that mask, and what he saw made him want to grab Sabrina and  _ run _ , run to the Bunker with all its wards and protections, where the Devil couldn’t get either of them. 

The familiar sensation of being wrapped in Lucifer’s grace hit Sam a few milliseconds before him and Dean were thrown to opposite ends of the room, pinned. From experience Sam knew doing this was basically child’s play to the archangel, and he felt the rising panic in his chest reach a whole new peak. The angel blade Dean must have been trying to pull out clattered to the floor the moment both of them went flying. 

“Really, Dean? You  _ know _ those won’t work.” 

“Doesn’t mean they won’t hurt like a bitch,” his brother spat.

Angel blades. Sam had his, but it would be far too obvious and clunky for him to try and cut himself with. But he did still have a pocket knife - the same one he had used when Lucifer had been possessing Cas, in fact. After all, the number of times either Winchester ends up kidnapped or immobilized were too many for most people to keep track of. Only problem: Lucifer ensured the only thing he could move was his head and neck. 

“Considering the lack of Castiel and Jack, I’m going to assume it’s just the two of you. Pity; I was hoping to avoid a trip to Kansas. Oh well. Now,” Lucifer’s attention switched back to Sabrina. “Where were we before these two so rudely interrupted?”

“Never took you as someone for jailbait,” Sam called out, pushing down the panic and fear as best as he could. Having Lucifer’s sole attention on you was never a good thing, and despite being an apparently powerful witch, Sabrina was still just a  _ kid _ . 

“Why, Sammy, are you jealous?” The smile that crossed Lucifer’s face had Sam reflexively struggling to escape the grace’s hold on him. The Devil stood up, giving the youngest Winchester the first proper look at the new vessel. Not that he was really able to notice much, as the archangel was suddenly bridging the distance between them, ignoring Dean’s yells of  _ “You stay away from him, you son of a bitch, I swear -” _ . 

One thing that quickly became apparent was that somehow this vessel was  _ taller _ than Sam himself was. Only by an inch, but it was one inch too many. It made the archangel’s presence even larger than it usually was, more suffocating this close. A hand came up, Sam barely withholding a flinch, but instead of the choking or  _ pain _ (or worse, soul touching) he was expecting, it simply cupped his cheek in a way that might have been gentle or comforting coming from literally anyone else. 

Lucifer’s ever present coldness was still present, leaving an icy trail that burned as it moved down his face and made Sam suppress a shiver, even though the grace already pinning him against the wall was cold in itself. 

“Don’t worry, it isn’t like that. You know you’re always the one for me; I simply needed a reason to get Sabrina here. After all, shouldn't a father be allowed to get to know his only daughter?"


	2. 12x01 AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12x01 AU, where Lucifer is able to find Sam after the BMOL kidnap him due to a bond between an angel/archangel and their True Vessel and tries his best to get Sam to say 'yes' again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Implied/Referenced Torture, Choking, Manipulation, if I need to add any other warnings/tags please let me know! If any of the mentioned make you uncomfortable, please skip this chapter/hit the back button! Your safety and comfort comes first.

The basement was quiet - eerily so. Too quiet. A quiet Sam wasn’t used to. As far as he can remember there had always been some sort of background noise - noise from roadside motels, the steady breathing of a roommate or Jess, the ever present low hum of the Bunker. Even in the Cage it hadn’t been quiet, not really. Lucifer  _ loved _ hearing himself talk and the sound of Sam's screams.

So the lack of sound once the ringing in his ears let up was unnerving. And worked far better than any torture the British bastards could put him through. But it wasn’t enough to get him to give him what they wanted. He had stronger resolve than that, even before his centuries in the Cage. 

The side of his foot no longer hurt, which he had a feeling was because the nerves had been severed and cauterized by the torch, but could also be the resulting chill from the basement and cold ‘shower’ he had been given earlier. Not that he was all that bothered by it; he was used to far colder temperatures. Rather than the heat of hellfire, Lucifer had burned with an icy cold that made his current surroundings feel almost cozy in comparison.

It was dark out, that much he could tell. But that was it. The longer the basement door stayed shut, the more Sam assumed they were leaving him down here for the night. Using the wooden steps to prop himself up, he drew his legs up close to his chest to try and get a little comfort and body heat. Because while the cold didn’t bother him (at least, in terms of his inner thermometer… the memories were another thing entirely) he also knew that it was wise to conserve as much body heat as possible in situations like this. 

He was about to drift off into a no doubt shitty sleep when he felt the temperature drop even lower. And lower. And lower yet again. So low that it was starting to feel like  _ he _ did, which fuck no, how did these bastards even know…?

And then he heard it. A voice,  _ the _ voice.  _ His _ voice. Just one word, drawn out in a way Sam was all too familiar with.

“ _ Saammyyy…” _

Reflexively, his right thumb dug into the old scar on his left palm, the nerves permanently fucked up after the amount of times he had reopened and deepened the injury. But the voice continued, this time as a chuckle. 

“ _ I’m as real as you are, buddy. _ ” 

Sam’s eyes - which he had kept tightly shut the entire time - opened to see a familiar pair of glowing red eyes inches away from his face, the only discernible thing in the darkness of the basement. 

“No, you’re not - this is something they gave me. Amara ejected you from Cas. You can’t find me even if you wanted to; the sigils are still on our ribs. And I  _ know _ they didn’t break them,” he desperately said. His thumb dug in harder, feeling the dull ache of his blunt fingernail breaking the skin from the pressure.

“ _Hmm… wrong._ _I’ll always be able to find you. True vessel and all that._ ”

He shut his eyes again, thumb still digging into his thumb, a warm trickle of blood making it’s way down his palm towards his wrist, counted to ten, and opened them. And still found the red eyes looking back at him. His heart sank and he was in the process of scrambling to his feet to put distance between himself and the archangel when suddenly a hand - covered in sores and abrasions, it felt like - lashed out to grip his wrist tightly, preventing both further movement and from digging further into his already messed up palm.

Hand. A physical  _ hand _ . This was like his hallucinations when his wall was broken. Chuck, what did they  _ give him _ ?! His desperate attempts to break free only resulted in the hand encircling his wrist to squeeze tighter. Sam could  _ feel _ the bones grinding together, before a sharp pain shot through his arm as his wrist was broken.

“I don’t know whether to be  _ impressed _ at what these bastards were able to do to you, or  _ pissed _ they thought they had any right to lay a finger on what’s  _ mine _ ,” the voice was clearer, unfamiliar now, yet still familiar at the same time. 

“This isn’t - ”

“Real? Very much so.” The hand gripping his wrist didn’t let go, and instead briefly tightened, as if to drive home the point once and for all that yes, this was currently happening, and not because the British assholes somehow knew details of his ‘relationship’ with Lucifer. Sam bit back the urge to let out a pained gasp at the pressure on his broken wrist. 

“Now that we have  _ that _ out of the way… I need a favor from you, buddy. And one that I think will benefit us both.”

Sam’s response was automatic. “No. I won’t - never again.”

The sudden increase of pressure of his broken wrist - enough that it was probably broken in more than two pieces judging by the crushing sounds he heard - caused a cut off small gasp of pain to escape before he could stop it. 

A memory surfaced. ‘ _ Rule one, bunk buddy: you don’t get to say no. Ever. Understood?’ _

“Even at the cost of countless lives? What is that you and your brother like to say? ‘Saving people, hunting things; the family business’? Did you just decide to drop the ‘saving people’ part? That’s unlike you Sam. Then again, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, given your past actions in recent years…”

His brother. It was beginning to sink in, now that he wasn’t being occupied by other things, that Dean was  _ dead _ , for good this time around. The world was still standing, so the plan to kill Amara must have been successful. 

As if picking up on his train of thought (which honestly Sam wouldn’t be surprised if he was able to) Lucifer continued, voice going deceptively soft, “Big brother’s not coming for you this time. Little Castiel isn’t able to find you thanks to those sigils, not like I can. I’m your only hope for getting out of here.”

The truth of Lucifer’s words hurt worse than his broken wrist or even when they had burned his foot earlier. The archangel wasn’t wrong: there  _ was _ no easy way for Castiel to find him, because if Sam’s hunch about these British people were correct, they would make it so  _ Rowena _ couldn’t use a spell to find him, if the witch would even be inclined to.

But that didn’t mean Cas wouldn’t  _ try _ . He just had to hold out until then, and he doubted the British would kill him - yet, anyway. 

“He’s probably dead, you know. That banishing sigil? No wings? Even if he did survive, he could be half way across the world with no way back.”

“ _ Shut up _ .” The venom in Sam’s tone would have been enough to make most people back off and drop the subject. The kind of tone that warned pressing further could lead to things getting ugly. 

“Hey, I’m just telling you the truth here. I’m all you have now. No ifs, ands, or buts.” While only the archangel’s eyes were visible, Sam had no doubt he was shrugging, his free hand held in front of him, palms open in a deceptive gesture of peace. 

The answer was immediate once again. “No.”

The responding sigh activated all of Sam’s instincts ( _ training _ , part of his mind whispered) that told him he had a split second to decide if he felt lucky trying to flee or to brace for incoming pain. And the latter was exactly what he got. 

Sam had no time to enjoy the brief release of pressure from his no doubt shattered wrist because the same hand that had been tightly gripping it immediately moved upwards to his throat. His back scraped against the dirty brick wall of the basement as the archangel easily lifted the hunter, pinning him with one tightly wrapped hand. There was barely enough room for him to gasp in air and he fleetingly knew the only reason Lucifer was  _ allowing _ him to breathe through the choking was so the Devil could get the coveted ‘yes’. 

“Right, since apparently these bastards did something to your intelligence,” Lucifer began. “Let me put it simply: you say my favorite three letter word, and the only blood on your hands are these Brits - which, let’s be honest, if Dean-o was here, they would be dead either way. You keep saying  _ your _ favorite two letter word, I leave you here and go through Dad knows how many meatsuits to find one that will contain me for a decent length of time,  _ then _ I come get you and kill the idiots dumb enough to  _ think _ about touching you.”

And Sam knew Lucifer wasn’t joking or making idle threats. When he said something, he meant it. He really would go through an endless amount of people to find someone that could hold him half as well as Nick, much less Sam, if Sam kept refusing him. 

Stuck going through Chuck knew what with the British assholes, or break the personal vow he had always made to  _ never _ let the Devil possess him again? Have only the blood of a few, admittedly fucked up, humans on his hands? Or the blood of an undetermined number of innocents? The decision was an easy one.

Before he could get enough air to tell Lucifer to ‘fuck off’ the basement door suddenly opened, footsteps sounding down the wooden stairs. Heeled footsteps. Guess the Brits were still watching him.

The brief light from the opened door showed that Lucifer was wearing a man in his mid forties - or so Sam imagined the man had once looked that way. The archangel’s grace was eating away at the man’s body, burning him up from the inside, to the point the face just vaguely resembles a human male. It also allowed Sam to see his cracked, bleeding lips pull up in a smile - the smile he got when he was about to inflict pain on someone. For once, the smile wasn’t turned on the hunter - not that it made him feel any better.

A gunshot rang out, most likely aimed at Lucifer, but the impact did nothing except make him turn his head to give the woman - Toni, she had said her name was - the look. His hand still remained around Sam’s throat, and the free one rose to flick her against the far basement wall. 

More footsteps, but they were quickly replaced with the snapping of the archangel’s fingers and the splattering sound of their bodies exploding on a molecular level. The hand around his throat moved lower, grasping tightly onto his shirt front, and dragged Sam into the middle of the basement while the hunter drew in deep breaths of air. 

As soon as Sam was released, he collapsed on the stone floor, the sudden weight on his burnt foot finally sparking some pain. Of course, he tried to stop the fall with his hands, momentarily forgetting the shattered wrist. 

Copper filled his mouth from how hard he had bit his lip to keep the pained grunts in.

If Lucifer noticed he gave no indication of it, instead walking leisurely over to where Toni was still pinned against the wall like a bug to a dissection table. A feeling Sam was familiar enough with.

  
“What gave you the right to think you could lay a hand on something that’s  _ mine _ ? Sam Winchester doesn’t belong to you or any of your little British friends; he belongs to me, and only me.” Sam could hear Toni’s breathing coming in short gasps even from where he was. “ _ I _ am the only one who is allowed to torture him, to hurt him, to touch him in  _ any capacity _ . Something I’m going to make sure you know  _ very well _ by the time I’m finished with you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like my previous CAOS x SPN one, I'm leaving this open to potentially revisit it (however briefly) in the future if I don't scare everyone away by some of the ideas I have. I'm considering bumping the rating up to 'mature' even though I doubt there will be any smut (if ever) for a LONG time. Let me know what you guys think! I hope I didn't make either Sam or Lucifer too OOC.

**Author's Note:**

> Should I keep going or just scrap all the ideas I've had and stick to trying to work on my one crossover and Dean Jr series fics?


End file.
